


Rain Delay

by Orange17



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: A little into the future, EFA Fic Challenge 2018, F/F, Sentimental Nicole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 05:36:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14586090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orange17/pseuds/Orange17
Summary: For the EFA Fic Challenge 2018, prompt: “Rain”





	Rain Delay

**Author's Note:**

> For the EFA Fic Challenge 2018, prompt: “Rain”

With her hand resting on the doorknob, Nicole paused to look back at her girlfriend, eyeing the jacket in the brunette’s hand.

"Waves, you don't want to lug that around all game. Weather forecast isn't even callin' for rain and there’s not a cloud in sight," Nicole assured, turning to point at the clear, blue sky visible through the window of their hotel room.

Between the apprehensive "hmpf" that escaped the shorter woman's lips and narrowed hazel eyes glaring back at her, Nicole knew better than to argue. Instead, she simply turned the handle and stood back to allow Waverly to leave the room first.

\--

“Peanuts, geeeet your peanuts! One dollar here, six in the stadium!”

Feeling eyes on her, Nicole twisted in Waverly’s direction.

“Didn’t you say you wanted peanuts?” her girlfriend asked, as they followed the swelling tide of fans, clad in orange and black, down Pratt Street.

“Yeah, but not from there.”

“Are they really that much more expensive in the stadium?” Waverly asked, eyebrows pulled together.

With a hollow laugh, Nicole replied, “Definitely. But that’s not where we’re gettin’ them either.”

The taller woman glanced at her girlfriend, hazel eyes crinkled in confusion.

With a gentle tug on Waverly’s hand, Nicole picked up the pace and beamed, “You’ll see.”

\--

“What’s that smell?” Waverly asked, nose in the air.

“Better peanuts,” Nicole beamed, unable to pull the smile off her face, as the achingly familiar outline of Camden Yards came into view. “Aren’t you glad we waited?”

The pair followed the bustling crowd the last block and joined a small queue for the peanut vendor, set up under a canopy tent on the street corner just outside the stadium.

“I didn’t know peanuts could smell so amazing.”

“You’ll never be able to eat another peanut again,” Nicole confessed, practically drooling from the smell that filled her mind’s eye with some of the happiest memories from her childhood and teenage years. “They roast them themselves and use that smaller roaster in the corner to keep them warm here on-site.”

As the line moved slightly, Nicole shuffled to close the gap as a familiar voice reached her ears.

Turning in the direction of her name, the officer beamed as the proprietor beckoned them closer before wiping his hands on his apron as he stepped out from underneath the tent, allowing another aproned man to handle the queue; his hair, grayer than she remembered, stuck out beneath his faded Orioles cap.

“I can’t believe how tall you’ve gotten,” he stated, gray eyes round in disbelief as Nicole gently tugged Waverly from the line.

The redhead rolled her eyes as she closed the distance between them, dropping Waverly’s hand to hug the peanut vendor, “Mr. Myers, I haven’t grown since you last saw me.”

“Are you sure?” he teased, stepping back. “It’s been, what, six, maybe seven, years?”

“Something like that,” Nicole sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

A light tap on her other hand pulled her back.

“Oh! I apologize, Mr. Myers, this my girlfriend, Waverly Earp. Waverly this is Dale Myers, owner of the best place to get peanuts for an O’s game.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Myers,” Waverly greeted, shaking the older man’s hand.

“The pleasure is all mine Waverly,” Mr. Myers grinned. “Don’t take Nicky at her word though, her and her grandfather were always a little biased.”

“I’ve learned to give her the benefit of the doubt,” Waverly teased, smirking at Nicole. “The wonderful smell helps.”

Mr. Myers laughed, eyes crinkled as he looked back at Nicole and softly added, “Something tells me Neil would’ve loved her.”

Nicole felt her eyes well up at the second mention of her grandfather.

“Just peanuts today?” Mr. Myers asked. “Or a soda too?”

Blinking the tears away, Nicole fumbled for her wallet, “Um, a large bag of peanuts, a scorecard, and a pencil.”

The vendor turned, striding back under the tent to scoop peanuts, fresh from the roaster, into a bag and grab the other items. When he returned, he waved off Nicole’s cash.

“Your grandfather gave me enough in tips over the years to keep me in business for a year or two even if I didn’t sell another nut,” Mr. Myers admitted, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “After all this time, I still miss seeing him every game. He and I went all the way back to the Memorial Stadium days…He was a great man, and I know no one misses him as much as you do, Nicky.”

Nicole felt Waverly’s eyes on her as she swallowed the rapidly forming lump in her throat.

“Thank you,” she replied, hoping her gratitude conveyed in spite of the waver in her voice.

Handing the items over to Waverly, she pulled Mr. Myers into a final hug as he murmured, “I hope you haven’t been avoiding this place, Nicky. He’d never want you to do that.”

“I wanted to come back with someone just as special.”

With a shaky inhale, the redhead stepped back, wiping away an errant tear.

\--

Once inside the stadium, the couple walked down Eutaw Street, breathing in the smell of Boog’s BBQ. Waverly paused every so often, to the disgruntlement of other fans, to read the medallions on the ground, marking where home runs had landed.

“Has anyone ever hit the warehouse?” Waverly asked twisting to look at the towering brick building, as Nicole led them to a beer cart.

“Only Ken Griffey Jr. in the ’93 Home Run Derby.”

\--

Each with a cold Natty Boh in hand, Nicole led them down the all-too-familiar route to their seats along the third base line.

Waverly consulted their tickets as they reached the correct row.

“Do you want seat three or four?”

Throat tightening, Nicole croaked, “Four.”

\--

As first pitch approached, the pair dug into their peanuts. Waverly spouted off facts she learned about the B&O Warehouse, and it’s original, railroad, purpose in her pre-vacation research, as Nicole filled out each team’s line-up on the scorecard, consulting their social media accounts.

It wasn’t until Waverly recorded “4-3” on the scorecard for the first out of the game, that Nicole noticed a small gray cloud mar the bright blue sky.

Watching her girlfriend carefully record the play on the thick paper, transported the officer back to the early in their relationship and the first baseball game they watched together on TV; the pair snuggled up on Nicole’s couch with CJ wedging her way in-between.

The brunette’s initial confusion over the pad of paper in Nicole’s lap quickly faded when the officer explained scorekeeping as a way to document and archive what happened in the game and its historical significance. That was all it took to pique Waverly’s interest.

To Nicole’s, pleasant, surprise, watching baseball games, particularly Nicole’s Orioles, and keeping score from afar, became her girlfriend’s favorite low-key, night-in activity.

When it came time to plan their first real vacation (something more substantial than the two weekend getaways they had managed to sneak in-between revenant hunting), it only seemed fitting for them to see a baseball game; wherever they decided to go.

It was Waverly’s idea to come here, to this particular spot on the east coast. The brunette insisted she wanted to visit places that held happy memories from Nicole's summers spent with her grandfather in Annapolis. Camden Yards topped that list.

With a small shake of her head, Nicole shifted her focus back the present, taking a sip of her beer as she watched the pitcher wind up.

\--

Eight outs and no runs later, the redhead felt the first drop fall from the sky; the blue now dotted with ominous, dark rain clouds. She looked over at Waverly, to see the brunette’s neon pink rain jacket spread across her lap and a sly smirk spread across her lips.

Mischievous hazel eyes flashed as the younger woman asked, “Regretting something, officer?”

“Nope,” Nicole replied, cracking open a peanut, discarding the shell under her seat, and popping the small nut into her mouth. “I have faith in AccuWeather.”

“I don’t,” the brunette stated, hazel eyes averting to the field as the opposing pitcher wound up.

Nicole’s sight followed, just in time catch the Orioles leadoff batter line a double into a gap in left-center field. Both women cheered, Waverly enthusiastically clapping before meticulously recording the play onto her scorecard.

The redhead felt her heart swell at the sight of her girlfriend, decked out in an orange Orioles tank top, that beautifully clashed with the rain jacket sprawled across her lap, brunette hair braided to the side to allow for a matching baseball cap, cheer on her favorite team.

With a runner in scoring position, no outs, and the Orioles clean-up hitter digging into the batter’s box, a familiar few bugle notes carried throughout the stadium’s sound system.

“CHARGE!” Nicole yelled, along with the crowd.

Waverly jumped at the noise, startled.

“What?” the bewildered brunette asked, as the music replayed, and the crowd shouted again. “Do they want him to charge the mound? Why would he do that?”

“No,” Nicole chuckled, pausing to yell with the crowd a third and final time. “It’s like a rallying cry for him to drive in the run.”

“Oh…well then why not just yell ‘hit!’” Waverly huffed, as the batter watched a pitch miss the strike zone. “You know, it’s literally a rallying cry. It was originally used to order infantry-men to charge an adversary.”

“Don’t mock it,” Nicole replied, removing the shell from another peanut. “It used to my favorite part of these games.”

“Oh really?”

The redhead munched on another peanut as she contemplated.

“That’s a lie. It was my second favorite behind seeing the Oriole bird mascot.”

\--

It took two more outs, but the Orioles were able to drive in the run before the end of the second inning; as the game continued sporadic raindrops persisted as the sky darkened, too quickly and too dramatically to just be from the setting sun.

Steady rain started in the bottom of the third inning. Nicole forced her eyes to remain on the field as she tried, and failed, to pretend that Waverly wasn’t shimmying into her rain jacket with a smug smirk spread across adorable lips.

In spite of the heavy precipitation, the game continued, and the couple remained in their seats.

With a huff, Nicole broke her resolve to ignore the rain and asked the brunette to tuck her cellphone inside a pocket of the rain jacket, so it didn’t get ruined.

Waverly smirked but took the device and zipped it into an interior pocket, “Want me to get you one of those plastic ponchos?”

“No, it must be a passing shower if they’re playing through.”

\--

Two outs into the top of the fourth inning, the skies opened up; the sudden downpour sent most of the remaining crowd scurrying to the covered sections and concourse.

As rain dripped from the brim of her hat, Nicole briefly appreciated Baltimore’s hot and sticky summers; without it, she’d be freezing with the rain having thoroughly soaked through her Brooks Robinson jersey and all other clothing items. Including her underwear.

“Do you want to move?” Waverly asked, a sly smile on her face.

Nicole laughed, tracing the familiar seat number on the armrest with her pointer finger, “I’m already drenched, might as well stay here as long as they’re playing…that is if you don’t mind?”

Smaller fingers entwined with her own, stilling her movement.

“I never mind.”

\--

The rain continued, fluctuating between a heavy mist and a downpour until the Orioles finally secured the last out in the top of the ninth to win 3-1.

“Are you ready?” Waverly asked, as the players vacated the field and the grounds crew hurried to unfurl a tarp over the swampy infield.

Her finger idly retraced the seat number, as she murmured, “Can I have a minute here? Alone?”

“Of course, baby. I’ll meet you on the concourse.”

With a brief peck on the cheek, Waverly scooted past.

When her girlfriend’s footsteps had faded, Nicole lifted her face toward the sky, allowing raindrops to splash across her face.

“Grandpa,” she murmured, “I don’t know if these are tears of sadness that you’re not here or of joy that I finally made it back to our spot…”

Her gaze fell again to the armrest and she gently ran her thumb over the number, “…in our seats…Mr. Myers was right, you’d have loved Waverly…and though I know that deep down, it hurts so much to be here without y—you.”

Her voice broke, and hot tears slipping from her eyes. Nicole lifted her face, allowing the rain to mix with them, hoping the precipitation would camouflage the emotion that poured out of her.

For a brief moment, the rain picked up, pelting her face with dense droplets before easing into a heavy mist.

Swallowing the thick lump that had formed in her throat, Nicole continued softly, “If you can really hear me, then you probably already know this…but since you gave me grandma’s ring, it didn’t seem right to give it to the woman I want to marry before you had a chance to meet her…”

The redhead trailed off, tilting her head down to wipe the moisture from her face before continuing, “…I’m taking her to the beach tomorrow. The same one you took me to every summer. She’s never seen the ocean before, and I always thought that it would be the perfect place to propose…”

Her eyes drifted back to the seat number again, her mind’s eye recalling her grandfather’s steady hand sitting on that same armrest.

“Do you think she’ll say yes?”

As the nerves she had kept at bay since they left Purgatory filled the officer’s stomach, a single fat, heavy drop of water cut through the mist, hitting the brim of her hat and pushing the cap into her field of vision.

“Okay, okay,” she chuckled feebly, adjusting the hat before lifting her eyes to the sky as the mist continued to dissipate. “I think I get the message.”

Her eyes fell to the armrest again and with one lingering glance down at the seat number, she rose, “Thanks for… _everything_ …I love you.”

The redhead turned and traipsed up the steps, her soaked socks and sneakers squelching at the movement.

When she reached the top, her eyes were drawn to Waverly. The shorter woman still donned her rain jacket, waiting in the tunnel to the concourse. Nicole picked up the pace, closing the distance between herself and her girlfriend in a few long strides. The instant she was close enough, the officer pulled the brunette into her arms, holding her close.

“Are you okay?” Waverly murmured, gently running a hand along her back and Nicole’s eyes slipped closed at the comforting gesture.

The taller woman could hear the note of worry in her girlfriend’s voice and nodded her head, not trusting her voice.

She felt Waverly pull back and the redhead opened her eyes to see concern swirling in the brunette’s hazel eyes.

“Come on, let’s get back to the hotel and get you out of those drenched clothes,” Waverly stated, extending her hand.

Nicole only could nod again, entwining her fingers with her girlfriend’s.

As they left the stadium and turned onto Russell Street, Waverly commented, “It’s funny how the rain stopped right after the game was over.”

“Mmm hmm,” Nicole hummed in response.

“I hope it doesn’t rain at the beach tomorrow,” the brunette added.

Nicole briefly looked to the sky again.

“I don’t think it will.”


End file.
